


Pale Yellow Shirts and Moth-eaten Books

by lunarmates



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Library, Angst in the middle, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, so much pining in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarmates/pseuds/lunarmates
Summary: nothing can ever be set in stone, the people you meet, the things that’s happening in your life now or the next occurrence that might lead into being the best thing you will ever know.“what do you think that meant?” dan asks the other man wearing glasses. phil adjusts the crookedness of his spectacle and gives him his response, “that maybe the fates throw in something good every once a while to get you through this incarnation.”





	

 

 ** _Soft_** light danced on the pavement, the sun’s rays cheekily peeking from the puffs of white clouds in the sky. The atmosphere was peaceful but it’s not a rare sight in Manchester, it was only due to the fact that it was still early morning on a Saturday.

His shoes made a crinkling kind of noise every time he steps on a fallen leaf so when he encounters one that is on his way, he kicks it to either side of the footpath and continues to make his way into town.

It took Dan about a few more minutes and constant murmurs of colourful language to reach the flight of steps that lead to the library. The warm gush of air from the inside welcomed him and it reminded him of his childhood, where he would come home from school and every other day, there would be freshly baked cookies waiting for him on the table.

He makes his way to the reception and he notices that one of his colleagues was already there, reading a book and plumped down on a chair that creaks with every move she makes. Dan doesn’t try to greet her and pushes the door carefully to not frighten Becky and “ruin” her reading mood. The room was furnished to the typical standard of what seems it might look enough to other people. A maroon coloured couch was placed in the middle of the room with two armchairs at the sides and a rectangle coffee table in centre of the seats. At the right side of the room, there were three squared holes that punctured through the walls. It wasn’t for the sunlight or starlight to brighten the expanse but for the returned books to pass through. Beside that area were about ten or so shelves that has wheels to push around, it was filled with books and thin strips of paper peeking from different pages.

None of the other employees were there and Dan lets out a sigh of relief. He hangs up his bag, a few hooks away from what he thinks is Becky’s shoulder bag. There isn’t much to do when you’re placed in an early shift especially on the weekend. _Just a few more weeks,_ he tells himself. A few more boring weeks before Dan can bolt out of this tedious hellhole. Of all the places his cousin found him a temporary job, it had to be a library. He wouldn’t complain if it were his fifteen year old-self working because back then, he’d surround himself with books but you surely know that people change.

He was mulling over if he should read the novel he brought with him or buy himself a sandwich at the café opposite the library. It was a few seconds later when he made up his mind and Dan stood up, taking his wallet with him and walking out of the room.

While heading out towards the main exit, Dan glanced at his wristwatch. It read _6:05._ He immediately started regretting setting foot outside because a strong gust of wind bit at him and Dan only just recalled that he took off his jacket, leaving him with less a layer to protect himself from the sudden rush of cold breezes every now and then.

* * *

 

 ** _Dan_** heads back to the library with a sort-of full stomach and feeling warm with a cup of coffee that’s halfway finished. There weren’t many people when he arrives just a few seconds later and Becky is still glued to both her seat and the book she’s reading. _I used to be just like that._

And as Dan’s luck would expect it, the staff room was still vacant. He makes his way to the armchairs and sinks in the material of the seat after placing his nearly empty coffee on the table. His eyes trail to the ceiling and the dusty remains of an old chandelier was in his line of vision. There were cobwebs forming around the jagged sides of the crystals and the transparent shine it used to have was now replaced with a dirty grey that just dulls down the entire ambience of the room.

He shakes his head and moves his eyes from the wrecked lightening to the art that hung on walls. Each painting was neatly framed and it looked like the previous staff took care of it due to its pristine condition. Dan closes his eyes and when he opens it, he lets his eyes fall to the table in front of him. On top of it were his coffee and a book opened to a page.

_Are soulmates real?_

He scoffs. _Soulmates and that lovey lovey stuff. Why would anyone want to believe in something that can’t be proven true? It’s just a waste of time._ Dan ruminates. He was pulled back to his consciousness due to the knocking on the door. “ _Psst_ , instead of lazing in the staff room, you could put back those books over there,” the wooden door muffled Becky’s loud voice. Dan rolls his eyes and waits for a few seconds before walking towards the row of rusty shelves.

 _Does everything in here have to be so antique looking and out-dated?_ He pulls the rack that’s closest to him and steers it to the door. There were now people inside the library. All of them had textbooks lying beside the scattered paper around them. Pages were highlighted in different colours, the edge of the sheets folded at the top right side.

He passes by a student that was rubbing her eyelids before continuing to skim through her highlighted notes. The textbook adjacent to her folder caught Dan’s attention. _Learning the Law, Glenville Williams._ He had that same textbook a few years ago. The book was quite handy with the abbreviations but didn’t give him much insight about law.

Dan disregards whatever _nostalgic_ feelings he has towards his university life and continues to go to the designated aisle. The law girl was left hidden amongst the tall and sturdy bookshelves. He was in the middle of entire library, lost in between pieces of wood and books. Dan hated being in the core of this bloody building, the lighting was always flickering and the bulb was yellowish and dusty. Trying to read in this spot, without the use of a flashlight is completely stupid because the words were always taken away by the blinking light.

He fishes for his phone in his jean pocket and turns the flashlight function on. Bright light filled the five inches of space that was in front of Dan and he proceeded to walk until he reached the ‘ _she_ -‘ aisle. The light gradually became much lucent thanks to the windows that were placed at the side of the building. He turns his head to look at the labels that were stuck on the shelves, oblivious of the person sitting at the end of aisle.

“ _Ow_!” Dan flinches at the sound and causes the rack he was moving to wobble a bit. His eyes land on a man he’s guessing is not that much older than him. He wore a pale yellow shirt and on his lap was a coal coloured jacket and a notebook with the pen tucked in the page he left off.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Dan looks at him and hauls back the rack from the other man’s knees. “It’s alright,” he waves him off with his hand and flashes him a friendly smile before returning to writing or reading whatever it is he’s doing on that notebook.

He starts to take the books out from the tarnished shelf and place it amidst the correct arrangements of books on the bigger and woody shelves. It takes him much longer than he usually does because had it not been for the stranger sitting in silence ahead of Dan, he would’ve been done in three minutes flat. But now it feels like it’s been an hour and he’s only gotten to the second shelf on the movable rack.

It’s as if his guardian angel has come and answered his prayer, the man he unobservantly almost rolled over to, stood up from his sitting position and was treading to the area Dan was walking through moments ago. The silence that enveloped them was terrifying; he didn’t know whether the stranger was furious with him because he was just told it was _alright._ Every second that was ticking off the clock was like his heartbeat, pounding and threatening to burst out of his chest. He shouldn’t be afraid of a stranger he accidentally bumped into, he shouldn’t be afraid of being reported to his aunt. He shouldn’t even be afraid in the first place. _This is stupid; get a hold of yourself Dan._

He doesn’t know whether the following turn of events were for the better or worse. “Hey, it’s absolutely okay soft-colliding the rack onto my knee,” the man tells him, as if sensing his discomfort. Dan looks at him, his hands starting to get clammy because he was expecting a boiling rage to grace the other man’s face but instead was met with a composed expression and a smile tugging on his lips.

Dan takes in a few deep breaths before saying something. “Yeah, okay, if you say so,” his voice was soft and he kept twiddling with the fabric at the back of his shirt. The man in front of him shoots him a kind smile before leaving him alone to bathe in the sunlight and the sound of traffic.

He looks at his watch. _7:06._

* * *

**_It_** had been an entire week after that whole incident. He kept an eye around to the people that were in the library for the past six days but alas the man wasn’t there. Dan was able to get back on with working normally again but he pleaded with Becky to switch with him for this week. She only agreed to the condition that he’d buy her coffee for the rest of next week.

Things took a turn for the worse that fateful Saturday. Dan woke up late due to the noisy tenant living beside his unit, the latter having a party until the early hours of the next day. The music was loud but the guests were much louder, there were sudden guffaws or shrieks and constant ‘woos’ coming from this single person. Dan wonders how the landlord hasn’t kicked the occupant that would cause a ruckus twice every week.

He checked in the library at 7:00, an hour late from the fixed time for the morning shift employees. When he entered the premises, Becky was sitting at the same spot last week but she wasn’t reading. Her fingers were tapping in an uneven rhythm and bits of flaking wood got caught under her fake nails.

Before he could apologise for his late appearance, she beat him to it. “You’re late,” her monotonous and high-pitched voice always riled him up. He doesn’t think twice of making an apology, shooting her a frown and telling Becky that he knows.

She moves away from the reception and into the staff room, muttering about something he couldn’t decipher in time. Dan sighs and plumps himself on the chair Becky wasn’t sitting on. The atmosphere was quiet again, examination week has just finished for university students and there’s not much of an influx from people until midday.

He takes his phone out and digs for his earphones in his bag before popping each bud into his lugholes. Dan randomly picks a playlist and hits play, letting the silence be consumed with the sound of drums beating fast and the riff of an electric guitar lead the way for the vocalist to start singing.

_So boycott love_

_Detox just to retox_

_And I’d promise you anything for another shot at life_

He sees a figure move from the corner of his eye but he dismisses the thought as his mind playing tricks on him.

_And perfect boys with their perfect lives_

_Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy_

And there it was again, a shape was moving in the middle of the bookshelves. Dan furrows his brows together before deciding to check the weird supernatural happening out.

If the volume of his music wasn’t blaring from its limit, he would’ve been able to seem untroubled because the “figure” that was moving was just another person that just happened to flail their lanky arms because they knocked over their bottle of water.

Dan turns around the corner of the aisle and there, sitting in the middle of the entire row was the stranger he knocked into last week. He turned his back towards the side of the wooden bookshelf and praying to every single force in the universe to help him out of this situation. His heartbeat was ringing from his ears, drowning the music that was blasting from his earphones. Dan looks at his right side again before darting back to the reception table.

Oh, but his Chuck Taylor’s just had to be squeaky this one time. It was loud and pitched, enough for the man to stop thrashing in the air and look for the source of the sound. Dan mentally cursed at his shoes before sprinting out of the area and hiding behind an aisle that’s walking distance to his safe spot.

His breathing was erratic not because of being out of shape (maybe it is, he just won’t admit it) but for his irrational fear that said stranger might kill him if he ever saw Dan’s face in his sight of vision. He waves off the sixth possible way of how the other man might dispatch him; it included being locked in a basement with a pack of hungry timber wolves. But of course there are always much dreadful and horrendous ways to die.

He glances back to the place where he was just been and to his surprise, Dan sees that the other man wasn’t there anymore and he exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Standing up from his awkward crouching position, he saunters towards to the brighter area of the building.

Dan eyes the inordinate sized clock that hung on the wall. _7:15._ There were still many vacant areas in the property that would catch many other eyes and from time to time, it gave the peculiar feeling of emptiness to him. He doesn’t know what _exactly_ is missing from the scenery; people wandering in between the aisles, their words being etched into these threadbare walls or the amount of books shelved inside this facility with not a single soul to flick through the moth-eaten pages.

 _In a decade or two, no one would seem to read physical copies of books anymore._ He thinks as he sits himself down, twirling a bookmark between his pointer finger and thumb. _Every single book would be formatted into a suitable type of file for everyone to download off their device._

He continues to read the novel he brought with him, the loud _ticktick_ coming from the clock being his only companion for his shift.

* * *

**_“Um,_** do you happen to know if there’s a nearby café here?” A voice tears through the buzz of chatter around the building. Dan was looking at his left side wondering where the sound came from, pondering why there was no one there. “Where are you? Becky, are you pranking me again?” He whips his head around to the right side and was about to knock angrily at the door if it wasn’t for the snap of fingers that turned his attention to the front.

“Sorry, but please -” the sentence cuts itself off but his mouth still wanted to move; to tell the person to excuse him for a moment but it didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to.

He would’ve continued to speak if it wasn’t the same damned man he almost bumped into today. And also if he stopped letting his laughable bogey about the worst ways to go and at the hands of this man, he wouldn’t be standing there with his hand stuck on the doorknob to the staff room, _frozen_.

“Pardon, but earlier I asked you if there was any nearby cafés here,” the man speaks up again. There was this unspeakable silence encasing them again, like it was always there waiting to pounce at any given moment. “There is one, opposite the library,” he points out to the direction of the vast entrance that was decorated with a pillar at each side, the top part carved intricately with swirling patterns.

And he was right; opposing the location of the library was a small café. It had wooden chairs and sturdy tables, a large umbrella shielding any customers sitting under its shade away from the bright rays of the afternoon sun. People were inside the petit amount of space of the bistro and Dan would’ve preferred serving coffee or making waffles rather than lazing in a library, and knocking over guests who might be very good grudge holders and be violent with you all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I know that one, I _work_ there.” _Well that was something new._ Dan blinks at him, astounded at the fact that someone like him wouldn’t want to enjoy the privilege of eating with a discount. “Why wouldn’t you want to have a meal where you can pay less than the other fast-food places out there?” He rolls his eyes at him, before turning his face to the man working in the café.

“I’m not really a fan of their recipes, plus they don’t give you ‘discounts’ even if you’re an employee.” His words were bitter and gradually became softer in the end, as if afraid that the manager of the place he’s working in has voice recorders scattered everywhere in the library.

“Suit yourself then, I’ve got no more ideas of _any_ affordable places to eat around this site. Everything’s high-end and the nearest shopping mall here is a thirty minute walk to the east,” He seats himself back down to his chair, (he released his grip on the doorknob subconsciously or not, he can’t seem to recall.) “Thanks anyway for the _information_ you gave,” the other man tries his best to put an amiable smile before heading out the door, his backpack decorated with a few pins of flowers and a lion. The sun was at its apex, the rays hitting the black tuft of hair on his head to look a little bit brighter and make it seem he was wearing a black halo around his skull.

Dan focuses his attention to the desk in front of him; the same book that was on the coffee table in the staff room was there again and at the same exact page. _Are soulmates real?_

* * *

**_The_** second week of working in an unknown café was going pretty well for Phil. Of course the pay wasn’t well and that the staff room was basically the kitchen and the small space outside where the rubbish bins were placed. But the colleagues he had were so nice and welcoming.

He wasn’t exactly really close to each and everyone there but there was an exception. And speaking of the devil, said person sent him a message.

* * *

**_Louise_ **

**It’s nearly time for your shift, you okay?**

 

**_Phil_ **

**Yeah, give or take I’ll be there in eight minutes**

**_Louise_ **

**Sure, take care!**

 

* * *

**_The_** sun was dipping into the other part of the Earth, its colours painting the still clouds apricot and a tinge of tangerine. Phil’s always loved watching the sunset; it never ceases to make him feel something warm blossom in his chest. Only if the entire day has been gloomy, there’s nothing-divine waiting for him at the end of the day.

True to his word, he arrives eight minutes later. _18:58._ The small café wasn’t that packed in a Wednesday night except for the elderly couple sitting at the booth near the entrance to the premises.

“Phil!” Louise’s voice was genial and it suddenly filled the room’s ambience with love. There are a few people in this world that are like cotton fluff or the soft sound of crashing waves in the shore every morning, some of the purest things in this universe to exist and Louise Pentland is one of those.

He waves at her before taking the apron that hung under his name, and heading to the counter where Louise stood. The pastry that was being showcased was the last batch for the day, knowing that there wouldn’t be _anyone_ showing out of the blue before the bistro closes around 9. “How are your short stories going?” She asks him once he’s within earshot. Phil sighs and shakes his head, “I spilt my bottled water on the notebook I was using and I couldn’t salvage most of the pieces I wrote. The incident took about like seven of _the most important pieces_ for the story.”

“So is ‘Polka-dotted constellations’ cancelled?” Her shoulders seemed to slump at the thought of it and Phil knows how much she really liked the beginning part of the story, said it reminded her of this character she looked up to when she was young.

“It’s only just for a while I think, when I come up of another route for Madeleine’s story.” He hopes he’s not lying about writing another route for this girl.

“Don’t be pressured thinking of quickly writing up another course for Maddy, it took you weeks to think about the storyline remember?”

He smiles weakly at her, thanking his lucky stars that someone as nice as Louise was his friend. “I didn’t know that the reception guy in the library was uh-terrible?” Phil didn’t know how to explain him. She furrows her brows before realising he was that guy who would always come by in the early mornings every Saturday. “Oh him? He seems pretty nice for a person who seems terrible,” Louise taps on the cool glass of the counter.

“He comes here every Saturday?” Taken aback by the information given to him. “Of course you wouldn’t know, how silly of me. You work on the _night_ shifts darling.” She starts humming a tune he hasn’t heard of, probably one of those lullabies her mum used to sing to her.

* * *

**_The_** pen started to blot its ink through the pages and when he tried to remove it, it only smeared the sheet he was writing on and Phil placed the pen and paper down on the booth he was sitting on.

Nighttime was upon them; the other shops had their lights lit on, bright and in different colours. It made the square look like something ripped off a fairy tail. _“What is it about the evening that makes it so beautiful?” he looks up to face the other boy’s features, squinting his eyes at him._

_“Don’t you see the stars? Or, or the moon? They shine in the darkness! You have to look at it,” Caleb violently jabs towards the sky. The other boy doesn’t understand his excitement about the darkness and the dark always scared him. “But why do you like the nighttime? There’s the sun in the morning and you can see the clouds on the blue blue sky,” he argues._

_“You’re not even looking at the sky right now!” Caleb pouts at him and folds his arms together, dismissing his previous sentence. David rolls his eyes before eyeing the sky above him. He never loved the darkness, he was always unsure of whatever monster was lurking in its shadows. “Okay, I’m looking at the sky but there’s nothing_ beautiful _about it.”_

_He gestures to the expanse of pitch-black heavens that wrapped around this little blue planet. “Yeah, but there are the stars! Oh, do you know Orion’s belt?” Caleb was practically shouting at this point, as if his enthusiasm towards astrology wasn’t shown enough. “What’s an Orion's belt?”_

_And as dramatic as his friend can be, Caleb gasps. “You. Don’t. Know. What. A. Constellation. Is? Oh you poor kid,” he shakes his head before shooting him a goofy smile and ruffling David’s hair. “It’s a group of stars forming a recognisable pattern, like the Orion’s belt.” He points to the sky but drops his finger after a second. “It’s still early so it won’t be seen until later,” Caleb heaves out a heavy sigh._

_“But there’s still some stars out there! Look!” Of course he was right. Even if the amount of stars in the sky were little, they were always breath taking to look at. It’s amazing how balls of blue or red fire can make you feel a thousand emotions in a span of a single second._

Phil was brimming with ideas for the next following paragraphs, only if he wasn’t interrupted from his writing by the sound of the bell indicating that a customer has stepped foot into this expanse. He closes his eyes for a few ticks before he wills his eyelids to open, only to be greeted with a familiar face.

He could have sworn he’s seen him somewhere, the memory on the tip of his tongue and it all floods back to him when the person with a familiar face talks. “Not you again.”

Shouldn’t his fury be overflowing at this moment?

Phil takes in a deep breath before addressing him with the typical greeting. _Hi, welcome to Carnation’s. What can I get you?_ He tried his best to keep on a positive tone and a friendly smile on his face. “Uh, yeah, do you still serve coffee?” The tone coming from the other person surprises him, it was soft and a tinge of doubt mixed.

“Yup, what do you want?”

“Just the regular one.”

Phil taps on the screen of the machine, inputting the customer’s order before asking him how he would pay. Said customer looked at him strangely before pulling out a few notes from his jacket’s pocket, dumping it on the counter. He flinches a little when the sound of coins clattered amongst the crumpled note and he breathes out a quiet ‘sorry,’ before separating the amount needed to pay off his coffee.

He turns his back towards the other man to prepare his coffee, glancing at the digital clock that hung at the wall he’s facing. _20:55._ “What are you doing outside this late?” Phil couldn’t keep his curiosity to himself. Before he could conjoin a sorry for asking sentence, the patron answers his question.

“Long story short, the tenant that’s beside my unit have this crazy loud ass parties every week – mainly Wednesday and Friday nights. Gets pretty rowdy every hour it gets closer to the next day.”

Phil looks at him disbelievingly. “Really? But aren’t there like guidelines to living in a flat? People just don’t care do they?” The last part of his sentence dropped to a minimum volume but the man he was questioning didn’t push to ask what the sentence that missed his earshot.

“There are and many other occupants besides me, affected by the ruckus that’s shaking the building this very moment, that complained many times about _that_ tenant to the landlord but he didn’t even do a single bloody thing about it!” His arms expand as if he’s adding more dramatic effects but moving his upper limb.

“That’s not the only thing that sucks. It’s how inconsiderate that son of a bitch is, honestly. His stuff hogs at least half of _my_ doorway and the one to his left too, full of rubbish and whatnot.” He takes a deep breath before continuing.

While Phil was listening to him tirade about the insensitive occupant residing beside his unit, he was done with his coffee. He places the coffee on top of the counter that divided the both of them, steam coming from the top of the cup.

“Thanks.” The customer shoots him a warm smile and drags the chair out from under the ledge to sit on. “Not to be rude but aren’t you gonna go? I have to close the café around this time.” He points to the clock showing the digits in bright red lights. _20:58._ He shrugs and looks at Phil, continuing with his verbal onslaught. “You could use some company while closing this,” he says gesturing to the now empty area.

Louise left about an hour ago, telling him that she’s got a birthday party to attend to. Most of the staff left around that time too, leaving Phil alone with only the comfort of his pen and paper lying on the counter beside the cashier. This was always one of the highlights of his day, the serene atmosphere in this small room brought out the most of his creative flow.

“If you want to hang around, you could wait outside,” Phil offers to the man sitting on one of the high chairs, tapping on the side of his cup. He hums and nods his head, standing up and tucking the seat back under the ledge, making his way to the door.

* * *

**_About_** a few seconds later, Phil steps out of the dark room, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He locks the entrance and puts the key in one of his bag pockets, looking for his “company”. “Where are you looking at?” A voice breaks the silence.

He would’ve lost his balance if he hadn’t let go of his grip on the door handle. “You alright? Sorry if I startled you,” Phil tries to regain his composure and waves a hand off towards the other man. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Anyways, as this terribly long rant is going; the entire thing has been going on for like fourteen months consecutively! Like it’s always been at Wednesdays and Fridays and I know I’ve said that part earlier ago but thank god I didn’t live in that flat while I was still in university.”

They both fall into step together, some parts of the walk they mismatch the timing and either step with their right foot and the other opposes that and lands with the left foot. Small gusts of wind pass by them every now and then, the coldness biting their bare cheeks. It’s been around thirty minutes of talking – mainly the patron blabbering about whatever is on the front of his mind.

“Yeah, so I think this is where we part,” Phil says, rocking on the heels of his shoes. His companion blinks a few times before responding to him. “Y-yeah I guess so.”

“I bet I’ll see you at the library again!” Phil claps his hand and pointing an accusatory finger at him, “just don’t knock me over with that moving shelf again.

Before completely turning his back and heading to his flat, he strikes up another chance for bantering. “I didn’t get to say thank you, for being my comrade for this night. I'm Phil and your name is?”

“Dan”

* * *

**_side notes:_** the song that was mentioned earlier is called disloyal order of water buffaloes, you can give it a listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9vQ41wAsZ0)!

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> anyways, i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i wrote it! updates may take a while, so i apologise in advance! also, i appreciate the comments/kudos left here (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> you can reach me on twitter -> @GALRADAN


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